Part 19 (1/2)

'Phew no bugs.' Ace settled back again.

'Oh I didn't say that. There are three actually.'

'What?' Ace leapt up.

'But they don't work,' smiled the Doctor, brandis.h.i.+ng a small square*headed hammer.

Ace sat down on the bed with a growl and drew her knees up under her chin. 'I don't like it. There's still some weird stuff happening.'

'You're right there. I'd like to examine the machine again before they get too engrossed in setting up for tomorrow.'

'You think there's a problem?'

'Why is the circuitry so complicated? How did we manage to get caught up in its performance of Hamlet Hamlet. How did you get scratched by a non*existent knife? And then there's the deaths on Menaxus.'

Ace was puzzled. 'But that was the mud thing, right Doctor?'

'Was it? You know, that's pretty improbable too. Living mud still don't like it.'

'Spooky statues,' mused Ace. 'You know, I saw this opera once on telly G.o.d knows why or where and this guy got talking to a statue of this bloke he'd murdered.'

'Did he invite it home for tea?'

Ace frowned. 'You've seen it too?'

'Yes I've seen it. The statue accepts the invitation and turns up.'

'Yeah, like I said spooky. Must have been Channel Four.'

The Doctor tossed his little hammer from one hand to the other several times. 'But Menaxus was more like Death's Bane Death's Bane than than Don Juan Don Juan.' He froze, and the hammer clattered to the floor. He retrieved it with a frown, flipped it into the air and pulled open his jacket pocket for it to fall into.

'What is it?' asked Ace.

'Oh, just a thought. Probably nothing.' He rubbed his chin for a moment, then leapt to his feet retrieving his umbrella from where it lay across the table. 'But I have to see that machine again.'

They had given Bernice a delta dart. As she strapped herself into the single*person fighter she wondered where they had found it. It was strange finding anything other than antiques here. Obviously Braxiatel had clout with the armaments corporations of the Federation.

Now all she had to do was wait. Benny checked over the instruments again, playing back Braxiatel's rea.s.surances in her mind: a small fighter could get through the Heletian lines undetected; the Heletian defences were nothing like as impressive or well implemented as they had been a year ago; of course the Rippeareans could get their own s.h.i.+ps through, but anything bigger than a fighter could be detected and then stranded behind the enemy lines... '

Braxiatel's face flicked into existence on a side screen, breaking in on her thoughts. 'You have the message, don't you?' his voice asked, tinny and distant.

'Don't fret, I've got it here.' Benny waved a plain white envelope at the screen, then returned it to a pocket in flight suit. I'm glad I changed, she thought. It would have been fun trying to wrestle her way into the tiny c.o.c.kpit dressed in the full velvet skirt. Would have amused the launch crew too.

'One other thing,' said Braxiatel.

'Good luck?' she guessed.

'Of course. But as well as that.'

'I've memorized the route and the strategy for dodging the home defences when I get to Heletia if that's what you're after. And even if I hadn't, the navigation computer has it all sorted out.'.

'I a.s.sumed that.'

'I also know the positions of the main battle lines, if you're sure the locations are accurate.'

'Don't worry.' Braxiatel smiled. 'I provide lines for all the best people.'

'Oh. What then?'

'You remember that you said Richard Mique gave the models of the Temple of Love and the Belvedere to Marie Antoinette?'

Benny did remember. 'Yes. What of it?'

'According to Pierre de Nolhac, she didn't keep them. I thought you ought to know.'

Benny laughed. She had a.s.sumed he thought she was bluffing. 'Well, you learn something new every day,' she said. 'Can I go now please?'

Braxiatel looked towards the back of the s.h.i.+p, at something or someone out of sight of the scanner. After a moment his gaze returned to Bernice. 'Yes, everything cleared the pre*flight checks. Whenever you're ready. Good luck.'

The scanner went blank. Benny hit the ignition b.u.t.ton and pulled back on the control column.

The royal theatre, like the rest of the palace, was constructed of reinforced concrete. In many ways it was similar to the Pentillanian theatre on Menaxus. It was an amphitheatre in the old style: the orchestra or playing area slightly raised above the gangway around it and the front row of seats. The auditorium was raked in tiers, circling round the front half of the stage and soaring above it. Unlike the Menaxan theatre, it was roofed in with a heavy grey ceiling from which a lighting gallery hung.

High on each side was a private box. One of the boxes was reserved for the Exec and his entourage. The other had been screened off with one*way gla.s.s across the front and sides. It was in this second theatre box that Fortalexa was setting up the dream machine for the next evening's performance of Osterling's greatest masterpiece.

The Doctor watched from the stairway behind the box. Ace was behind him trying to see over his shoulder. Fortalexa continued tinkering with the machine, oblivious to the Doctor and Ace behind him. The Doctor silently shooed Ace from the stairway and they retreated down the steps to the corridor below.

'What we need is a guard, or a functionary of some kind,' he said.

'Why? Don't you trust Fortalexa?'

'Do you?'

'I don't know.' Ace considered for a moment. 'A day or two ago, yes. But since we left Menaxus since you sent him to get me off the asteroid, in fact he's been '

'Not himself? Ah, hang on a second.' The Doctor had spotted a courtier crossing the corridor further down. 'You there,' he shouted. The courtier stopped in his tracks. The Doctor continued, waving his arms officiously and brandis.h.i.+ng a pen: 'Where's Fortalexa? You know, the dream machine chap. The Exec wants to see him.'

The courtier was immediately fl.u.s.tered. 'Oh, er, I believe he will be with the machine in the Queen's box. Not that we have a Queen, of course, but you know that. Er, I expect.'

'Well don't stand there all of a dither, go and get him.' The Doctor strode off without waiting for a reply, leaving the courtier stammering and looking from left to right in confusion.

Ace followed the Doctor. As she pa.s.sed the courtier she said, 'I'd do as he says he's the one who got Walter Raleigh executed.'